


Cigarette Burns

by moon932



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt Tony Stark, Inspired by Music, Like, M/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Pre-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Steve Rogers Smokes, Stony - Freeform, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, actually smokes, are you proud?, give the man a hug, oml this feels like tumblr, uhh, wow i actually wrote fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:40:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28001793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moon932/pseuds/moon932
Summary: Steve Rogers smoked. Kinda surprising isn’t it? America’s golden child smoked, but as Steve inhaled and took in a lung full of smoke and polluted air, he just couldn’t give a shit.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 4
Kudos: 55





	Cigarette Burns

**Author's Note:**

> the title and fic was inspired by Hoodie by Hey Violets, very good song, go check it out!!

Steve Rogers smoked. Kinda surprising isn’t it? America’s golden child smoked, but as Steve inhaled and took in a lung full of smoke and polluted air, he just couldn’t give a shit. Every day someone asks him a stupid question, every day he has to stop from rolling his eyes. “What’s your opinion on homosexuality?” A reporter asked, Steve couldn’t believe it then, and he still can’t believe it now. After so many years people are still hung up on that? Steve let out a breath, smoke coming out in rings, so what if he shows off a little? Not like anyone will notice.

He toyed with the draw strings of his hoodie. It was big, the sleeves can cover up most of his fingers, there was a distinctive smell of smoke that lingered in the navy blue hoodie. One that he honestly couldn’t bring himself to care about. The balcony door slid open, then closed again as footsteps drew closer. 

“You often smoke by yourself?” Tony asked, wrapped up in a threadbare quilt and comfortable jeans. Steve glanced at him, his mouth ticking up.

“You always wear blankets as a fashion statement?” He asked, smiling a little at Tony’s faux gasp. Tony rolled his eyes and moved closer, fingers wiggling as they rested in the crook of his arm.

Tony rested his chin on his shoulder, not even caring for the smoke that is definitely bad for him. Steve snorted quietly to himself, smoking is bad for everyone. Everyone except him, that is. Steve looked down at the city below, people and cars seem so small from so far. 

Tony hummed, “Excuse you, blankets are always a fashion statement.” Steve nodded amusedly, taking in a drag of the cigarette, feeling it feel his lungs and chest, and exhaled. Tony watched him for a moment, lively brown eyes studying him. 

He didn’t say anything, just watched as Steve blew circles with the smoke. Tony hummed under his breath, listening to the hustle and bustle that never seems to stop in a big city like this. With fall turning into winter, with the crisp air. 

“Oh how dare I not know?” Steve asked, wrapping his arm around Tony’s waist. Tony snorted, pressing a kiss to his cheek, grinning as he pulled away from the coldness of his nose. Tony grabbed the cigarette, taking a drag and blowing the smoke out. “That’s bad for you,” Steve mumbled, pressing his face into Tony’s neck, arm tightening around his waist. 

He hummed, taking another drag of the cigarette. “I don’t see you stopping.”

“It doesn’t affect me.” Tony tsk’d. Leaning back into Steve he rested his head back on the taller man’s shoulder.

“And it doesn’t make my already fucked up heart better. So really, you brought this on to your self.” Steve pursed his lips, digging his cold nose into Tony’s collar bone. Tony squawked, the cigarette dropping from his lips. 

Steve watched as Tony stomped on the curling bud. “That was my last one,” he pouted. Tony gave him a look, turning around in his arms, putting his hands in Steve’s hoodie pocket. 

Raising and eyebrow, “And you’ll buy more tomorrow.” He pecked Steve on the lips, “And you’ll be out here smoking by yourself. Which honestly, is as depressing as it sounds.” Tony rambled, leaning on Steve and resting his head on his shoulder. The smell of smoke and nicotine wasn’t uncommon. Usually it was mixed in with body spray and after shave. Speaking of which, Tony brought a hand up to rub against Steve’s jaw. He grinned like a loon when he felt the first hint of stubble. 

Steve puffed out a breath, bowing his head to give Tony’s palm a kiss. “I’m not growing a beard.” He mumbled, blue eyes sparkling with mirth as he felt Tony grinning against his shoulder. Said man whined.

“Awe, why not. Do you know how hot that’d be?” He asked, still grinning when Steve bent his head to kiss him. 

“There is already enough beard for the both of us.” Tony narrowed his eyes, lips pursed as he looked at his boyfriend. Steve could tell Tony was trying not to smile, if the twitch of his lips is anything to go by.

—

Tony laid in an empty bed. On his hade like he always was, arms thrown out infront of him. The bed was empty, and cold. He sighed, turning his face into his pillow. Taking deep slow breaths as not to cry.

The bed has been cold for months, and Tony doesn’t like it. With a frustrated groan he got up, throwing the sheets off of himself as he walked towards the closet. Arc reactor, freshly back in his chest, lighting the way for him. If he were better, he would’ve thrown the fucking hoodie away. But for some reason, Tony was never able to.

“Fucking Steve,” he whispered bitterly. All but yanking the navy blue hoodie of the hanger. Pulling it over himself while ignoring the feeling that built up in his chest. 

The hoodie was big on Steve, Tony knew. But it was absolutely humongous on him. Despite himself, he smiled. The sleeves flopped over his hands, he flapped the gently. Snorting as he quickly wiped his eyes. Walking quietly over to the bed, he sat on the empty space of the comforter. 

The arc’s light was dimmed, just a shape of what it was, shining an electric blue. Fuck all of them. He thought, angrily wiping his eyes again. All of them chose, all of them made a choice. Steve made a choice and so did Tony. 

He snorted, a tad hysterical. 

The smell of smoke and cigarettes still lingered on the hoodie. As well as the faint smell of cologne. One stubborn tear escaped down his cheek, Tony’s hands fisted. Tears blurred his vision as he silently cried. 

He really wanted a cigarette right now.


End file.
